Did you ever live on a farm so still, Where the work was hard, and the air had a chill? Dreading the task of the tough stump row, A test of resolve where progress was slow.
That dreaded day finally came at last, The sun beat down, the hours dragged past. I lowered my head, bit my lip, pressed on, Each swing of the hoe sang a stubborn song.
Some days in life are just like that row, Starting out rough with nowhere to go. But step by step, with grit in your hand, You clear the way, and you take your stand.
For persistence and faith will see you through, With every strike, you’re born anew. Never giving up will shape your soul, Turning toil into triumph, and making you whole.
Never leave home without a kiss, a hug, An “I love you” whispered, warm and snug. For life is fragile, its course unknown, And moments once lost are forever gone.
You never know when the last goodbye Might linger softly beneath the sky. So hold them close, let your heart be true, Speak love aloud in all you do.
Cherish every single moment shared, Each fleeting second shows you care. For the greatest gift we give, and receive, Is love that lingers when we must leave.
Let us tell our story, both bitter and sweet, Of the mountains we’ve climbed, the valleys we meet. Of heartaches endured, the tears that we’ve shed, The lessons we’ve learned, the paths where we’re led.
Let us tell of the joy that brightened our days, Of laughter and love in life’s winding maze. Of moments of triumph, of dreams brought to light, Of courage that carried us through the night.
Let us tell of forgiveness, the healing it brings, The weight it lifts, the freedom it sings. Of letting go burdens, the grace to restore, A soul once broken, now whole once more.
Let us tell of the glory, the beauty divine, Of hope that endures, of love’s perfect design. Of the strength we have found in the storms that we faced, And the faith that sustained us through trials embraced.
Our story is woven with sorrow and cheer, With threads of redemption and grace ever near. So let us tell boldly, for all hearts to see, The tapestry woven through you and through me.
Caregivers walk a path unseen, Through shadows soft, where few have been. They carry loads they do not share, A quiet strength, a silent care.
They give their time, their hearts, their all, Answering every whispered call. Their days are long, their nights unsure, Yet love and duty help endure.
They trade their dreams, they set aside, The fleeting joys for which they’ve cried. A social life, a carefree day, Are sacrifices on their way.
The toll it takes, the silent ache, The heavy heart that will not break. Yet you won’t see their struggles plain, Their smiles conceal their hidden strain.
To walk this road is hard, it’s true, Until you’ve worn their weary shoe. So honor those who give and give, For they show us how love can live.
Walk with me; don’t just walk me, Feel the world as I feel it to be. Slow your steps, let time unwind, There’s wonder here if you’re inclined.
The autumn chill, crisp and rare, Carries whispers in the air. Leaves crunch beneath my eager paws, Each one a tale, each scent a cause.
A squirrel darts, its heart a drum, The wind hums tunes from where it’s come. Traces linger, faint yet true— A cat, a flower, a morning dew.
You tug the leash, your thoughts elsewhere, Yet the world is calling, rich and fair. The sun spills gold through branch and bough, Its fleeting beauty whispers “now.”
Hear the leaves, their rhythm sweet, Like nature’s music at our feet. Feel the air, cool, alive, This is where our souls revive.
For me, this walk is a grand parade, An endless story freshly made. Each scent, each sound, a vivid clue, A tapestry of life in view.
So pause a while, let stillness reign, Feel the earth and shed the strain. Walk with me, don’t just walk me, Discover the magic I long for you to see.
Oldest footsteps on Colorado’s land, The Ute walk softly where mountains stand. From valley low to peak so high, Their spirit soars beneath the sky.
Through plains and forests, rivers wide, Their hearts beat strong with nature’s stride. The earth, their mother, steady and true, The skies, their father, vast and blue.
Pikes Peak rises, sacred, bold, A watchful guardian, ancient, old. In whispered winds and sunlight’s grace, The Ute find strength, a rooted place.
Ute Mountain Ute, Southern Ute’s line, In Colorado’s heart, their spirits shine. With stories deep as canyon walls, Their heritage stands, and ever calls.
The land remembers each sacred rite, Of fires burned and stars at night. In mountains high and rivers wide, Forever lives the Ute tribe’s pride.
A miracle is waiting for you today, In the soft dawn light or the break of day. It whispers low in the morning air, A quiet promise, a silent prayer.
It hides in places we often miss, In the warmth of love, in a child’s first kiss. In hands that reach when you feel alone, In finding courage you thought was gone.
A miracle waits in the heart’s deep ache, In the strength that comes when you finally break. It’s there in hope that won’t let go, In the smallest seed that dares to grow.
Today may seem just like the rest, But a miracle’s there, a quiet guest. So open your eyes, let your heart see— The gift of grace that’s meant to be.
He spoke of faith, of steady grace, Of seeking God in every place, A call to trust, to rise and say, “I’ll never cease; I’ll always pray.”
When storms descend and shadows grow, When answers hide and doubts may show, Hold firm, press on, lift voices high— Our prayers are heard beyond the sky.
For in each word, in whispered plea, He sees the heart, He meets the need, No cry too small, no tear unknown, Our faith in Him is seed well-sown.
So seek, don’t faint; pursue the light, Pray through the day, pray through the night, For God is near, His love enough— Keep faith alive; don’t give up.
Created by MarkWaldrop
Luk 18:1 Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up.
